Author's Note:
Thanks Whisperwings, for betaing.
Rebecca had continued using her pocketbook to document the days exploring. But rather than writing it to her deceased family as a means of telling them of her adventures, she wrote letters to the one that she intended on giving it to…
Day Fifty-Five, Search for The Black Arrow
Dear John,
We've been sailing for quite a while and it's been steady sailing, yet there's still no sight of Bones or The Black Arrow. We'll soon be making port on Kinapis for a short while (just so we're not so stir crazy, I suppose).
I still haven't the courage to tell you what happened the night after I buried my family. I imagine that the events will become evident in the near future. Why do I say this with such confidence? Well, because I-
"Rebecca!" Jim called down the hallway; "we're going to land soon. John wants you at the ship's controls."
"Coming!" Rebecca called. She sighed, 'I can't even write it down…' She closed her pocket book once the ink had dried and made her way to the main deck.
Once the HMS Aurora had made port, John had given them permission to go wherever they pleased. Rebecca was about to speak with John when someone pulled her alongside them, leading them down the gangplank.
"So, Rebecca, I think we've got some shopping to do." Juanita said enthusiastically.
"Shopping?" Rebecca looked at the female Shikaran oddly, "for what?"
"For new clothes!" Juanita gestured to Rebecca's dress.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Look," Juanita began, still leading them through the port, "I know that you want to learn the sailing ways, since we're so short of people, but you're going to need some pants on to climb up those ratlines without people seeing up your skirts."
Rebecca blushed at Juanita's comment.
"Plus, maybe a bunch of baggy shirts, or a jacket of sorts." Juanita pointed out.
"Whatever for?" Rebecca asked.
Juanita stopped, faced Rebecca and looked at her quite seriously. "Rebecca, I know that there's something funny going on with you."
Rebecca was speechless, but Juanita quickly filled in the silence.
"You never feel well in the mornings," Juanita stated, "and I highly doubt it has anything to do with me and Jarred replacing that stupid pig cook who we left on Emery."
"Well, I suppose…" Rebecca paused to think of something, "I suppose I'm just going through some sort of flu…" Rebecca bit her bottom lip.
"What, did you catch it on Treaka and it's been with you this entire time?" The female Shikaran scoffed. "Any flu would've worn off by now, and I doubt that it's sailing nausea." Juanita grasped Rebecca's shoulders and looked the young woman deeply in the eyes. "Rebecca, are you pregnant?"
Rebecca responded with an elegant, "What?"
"That's what I figured." Juanita gave Rebecca a cheeky smirk. "Hence the need for baggy shirts or a jacket," the mercenary stated simply, "after all, there's really no telling how big you'll get." Juanita patted Rebecca affectionately on the stomach and then led the way to the closest clothing store.
The stunned look on Rebecca's face hadn't left as she stood in the middle of the crowded streets, blindly watching Juanita walk away. She wondered inwardly what John's reaction would be if he figured out the news. It was his child after all…
"Well, what do you think?" Rebecca stepped out after trying on a variety of different outfits. She had to admit that wearing a pair of trousers was much more comfortable than wearing a dress, though she required a belt to hold up the trousers thanks to her smaller build.
"Very pirate-y." Juanita stated with a smile.
"Pirate-y?" Rebecca exclaimed. "What are you saying?"
"Well, to catch a pirate you need to be a pirate, so to speak." Juanita pointed out. She looked through a rack of belt accessories and picked out a small loop intended for a sheath. "Here." She tossed the loop into Rebecca's hands. "We'll go out and get you a sword in a moment."
"A sword?" Rebecca looked at Juanita, bewildered. "Why in the Etherium would I need a sword? Or any weapon for the matter?"
"Rebecca," Juanita started, "We're going after pirates and it's about time you learned to defend yourself." The female Shikaran smiled, "Don't worry, I'll teach you all that you need to know."
"Sure…" Rebecca said faintly. She attached the leather loop to her belt and moved it to her left hip. She sighed, turning to a floor-length mirror and looking at herself.
Juanita had picked out an ivory bell-sleeved shirt that hung loosely upon her and was tucked into her dark brown trousers. Rebecca had acquired a new pair of boots as her heeled boots were neither appropriate for her clothing nor her future intentions. Her raven-black hair was held back in a ponytail off of her face.
She could barely recognize the woman looking back at her in the mirror, but then…maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.
An hour later, the two women were walking back towards the spaceport's docks, Rebecca wearing one of the two outfits she had purchased and carrying a sword at her hip.
"So…" Juanita walked at Rebecca's side through the crowded street. "I think it's safe to guess that the kid's John's –unless you 'met' someone at that ball you went to, which is highly unlikely- am I right?"
"Juanita." Rebecca sighed, frustrated to be confronted with her pregnancy. "I really don't want to talk about it."
"Well, obviously it's going to present an issue in the near future." Juanita stated, "Better to think about it now before it's too late."
The female Shikaran sauntered off to the HMS Aurora, leaving Rebecca on the dock. The young woman sighed and followed the mercenary to the main deck, knowing that what Juanita had said was right.
The real question was how was she going to confront John about said issue without him calling off their pirate chase?
They had gotten straight back in the Etherium when Jim had picked up a lead on a week-old sighting of the Black Arrow from the locals. Juanita hadn't spared Rebecca much time to speak with John, already beginning the young woman's training in both sailing and swordsmanship.
The two women spent hours sparing with broom handles until Rebecca was too bruised to continue, then they called it a day.
Rebecca was tempted to get in her bed as soon as possible, but she had been assigned to a night watch to keep an eye on the stars while Henry was at the helm.
The young woman stood at the bow of the ship, leaning against the railing. Had it not been for the reoccurring ache every time her head drooped that woke her from her stupor, Rebecca would've surely fallen asleep on her feet.
A noise of skittered feet drew Rebecca's attention from her fatigue and she looked at the young arachnid standing beside her.
"Can't sleep?" Rebecca asked Scroop.
Scroop shook his head. "Too many dreams."
"Dreams?" Rebecca looked at the young arachnid oddly. "Of what?"
"They're just dreams…" Scroop sighed, remembering the strange seer he had met in a dream. Not all of his dreams would predict the future that was to come. But then he remembered the chaotic vision he had had before leaving Emery. Surely that was a sign of the events that had occurred at the Townsend-Clarke Estate.
Rebecca shrugged. "Some dreams –I find- are signs." She stated.
Scroop looked up at her quizzically, "For example?" He prodded.
"Well…" Rebecca thought back. "I'm not sure." She leaned against the railing and pondered. "I once had a dream, as a child, of a wild horse, rearing up and striking someone in the head before stomping on their collapsed body. It scared me then, but not truly until the next morning when I went down to my father's stables. I was by one of the newly broken-into horses, and it was spooked when a bat flew by its head, so it reared up and hit my brother –Denton- in the head. I quickly grabbed my brother and pulled him away from the horse, before it could step on him." Rebecca paused. "One would think it was quick thinking, but all I could think about -at the time- was that dream." She paused, allowing her racing heart to calm, and then she looked at Scroop. "So what are your dreams of, Scroop?" The young woman enquired.
Scroop sighed. "They're blurry."
"Blurry?"
Scroop leaned against the railing, only just reaching it, and looked out at the stars. "There aren't many details in the dreams, just… bits and pieces." He paused and pondered about what he had been seeing. "Screaming… Fire… Eyes."
"Eyes?" Rebecca looked at Scroop oddly.
"The colour of copper." Scroop stated.
Rebecca fell silent, thinking only of her family. Her pale green eyes filled with tears that she tried to force back. She cleared her throat. "Anything else?" She asked.
Scroop shook his head. The young arachnid could sense Rebecca's sadness and pried his mind for a means of comforting her or at least cheering her up. He sighed. "You know… my mother used to always tell me: we can't control everything that happens to us; we can only hope to be prepared for what'll happen and to trust our instincts that we'll just go with what we aren't prepared for." He looked up at Rebecca.
Rebecca smiled weakly and nodded. "I guess your mother was right, Scroop." She sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes. "There's no use wallowing in the past…" The young woman touched her stomach lightly and looked out into the Etherium. "I've got a future to think about."
There was a short silence between the two sailors. Rebecca felt exhaustion overcome her as she tried to keep her eyes on the stars. Scroop noticed this when Rebecca's head snapped back up in an attempt to remain alert.
"Perhaps you should get some sleep, Rebecca." The young arachnid suggested.
"You'll be fine out here, by yourself?" Rebecca asked.
"Henry's out here too…" Scroop stated, "Besides, you have twice the reason to get a good night's sleep."
"What?" Rebecca exclaimed, caught off guard.
"Captain Silver has you at the controls every day…" Scroop explained casually. "All our lives are in your hands, so to say."
"Oh, right, of course." Rebecca rubbed the back of her head. "Good Night, Scroop." The young woman made her way to her quarters. She couldn't help but touch her stomach. A voice in the back of her head stated that Scroop had likely meant what she had thought originally. The real question was if the rest of the crew could tell as well.
Author's Note:
So what's going to happen… who knows? (Well, I guess I do… sort of)
MG#6